First week back at work, even if it is just mornings. The hardest part is probably getting up early (ironically she’s sleeping so much better now). Then driving too work while it’s still dark. But that way I finish by 12 and can usually be back home with baby by 1. That does make it much easier. I can feel that I’m different from the casual worker I was before baby arrived. In the past I could shoot the breeze with colleagues without looking at my watch so much. Now I know I’ve got to pick up baby (a positive thing, don’t get me wrong). I don’t go on and on about her at work, because I don’t want to be one of those moms who bores everyone with stories. But I do steal sneaks at her pictures now and then.
Baby seems to be adjusting quite well to Tata Marie’s place. My husband and I notice she smiles quite easily for the sitter, and we wonder if we need to learn some tricks to get the same reaction at home. She’s getting to know the little world of folks that frequent the sitter’s home. Her husband, Laurent (that’s Tonton (uncle) Laurent for baby), her sons, their wives, her granddaughters. Nearly everytime I pick her up for lunch there’s a crowd of folks eating roast beef or neatly rolled slices of hams and tomatoes. I ask the sitter how she finds the time to do all this and watch three children (or four or five including her grandkids). Oh, a question of organization, she says. I mostly just open cans of tuna for dinner lately. Why can’t I be organized like that? Plus her house is spotless and her laundry always smells fabulously fresh. I think she must be a fairy godmother.
I can’t say I’m totally adjusted. I still think wistfully of those days when I had nothing on my agenda except baby’s bath, feedings, a little jaunt to the pharmacy and Monoprix for bread. Even though some of those days I was very sleep-deprived and lonely for company. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone .
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